


Ready or Not, Here I Come

by CarbonMeatbag



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, Hopeful Ending, M/M, McHanzo Week, POV Hanzo Shimada, Sexual Content, Strangers to Lovers, Wolf!Jesse McCree, Young Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 21:30:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9143053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarbonMeatbag/pseuds/CarbonMeatbag
Summary: The Shimada brothers follow their father on an extended business trip where Hanzo runs into a ruggedly handsome cowboy at the Los Angeles county rodeo. Intoxicated in this foreign land, the rising heir to a criminal empire burns hot and fast for a Blackwatch Jesse McCree: a wild man that tempts him in all the right ways.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Rated Explicit for Sexual Content and Eventual Violence/Gore**

“Only you could possibly be sour about a vacation, _aniki_. If you frown anymore, you’ll get wrinkles before you’re thirty!” Genji teased as he reached across the small aisle between them to lightly pinch Hanzo’s cheek. The elder brother quickly swatted away the offending arm.

“This is not a _vacation_ ,” he growled. Unfortunately, it seemed that Genji’s second decade of life would not soon mature him into a proper young man. Only a child would think their four month excursion to the United States would be about sightseeing and summer flings. No, their father was on a mission to plant roots in this foreign soil and, as the blossoming heir of their growing empire, he was to shadow and observe. There wouldn’t be time for distractions, especially in a place so unknown to him. 

Turning his gaze back to the screen readout in front of his seat, Hanzo noted that their plane would soon begin making its final descent into the Los Angeles International airport. Genji would simply have to keep himself in check during their extended stay as he did not intended on playing the role of his brother’s handler while they were here. Especially when he had so much to still learn about the art of business dealings. 

Going through immigration and customs was horrid. Navigating the expansive airport was nightmarish. Too many people milling about, looking at them with prying eyes. It wasn’t until the chauffeurs pulled up to whisk them away to their hotel (he had practically dived into the car) could Hanzo finally calm his jittering nerves. 

“We’ve only been here an hour and I already find America to be fantastic!” Genji beams next to him. “Did you see all the different types of people in the airport? Oh, and the _food_! I must have seen at least five places selling burgers!” 

Hanzo grumbles underneath his breath. The only positive thing for him had been the extraordinary weather so far. Summer in Hanamura was a humid affair, with stale, hot wind that did nothing but move your sweat around. But upon immediately stepping foot outside, he was caressed with such cool, unexpected breezes. Here, the sun did not try to cook you in your skin, only endeavored to warm you from the almost chilly air. One may actually need a light jacket come nightfall. 

Genji continued to blabber on throughout their drive, excitedly pointing out interesting signs and places through the car windows. As harsh as Hanzo was on his brother, he had always been quietly jealous of Genji’s freedom and carefree nature. From a young age, the elder brother always felt the weight of his inheritance on his shoulders. Some days he gladly bore it since it allowed him to protect and provide for those dearest to him. Other times, the burden was only crushing and every glance at his aging father was a deep reminder that his time as the heir was dwindling down. Perhaps feeling Hanzo’s eyes on him, the _oyabun_ of the Shimada- _gumi_ turned to face his two sons. The slightest smile pulled at the old man’s lips.

“Genji is right, Hanzo,” their father’s voice rang soft. “Do not look so glum, my son.”

Feeling slightly admonished despite his father’s light tone, Hanzo spent the remainder of the drive staring out at the passing cityscape, doubting the possibility that there was anything out here he could look forward to.

\---

Genji slapped down a brochure on the heavy wooden table with an audible _smack,_ jolting his elder brother from a daydream.

“You’re going with me,” the young sparrow announced, mischief chimed heavy in his voice. With a sneer, Hanzo slowly turned to eye the paper pamphlet and then upwards to glare at his brother.

“No.”

“Yes!”

“I would rather spend another week in endless business meetings than attend _that_.”

“Hanzooo!” Genji whined as he plopped down into an armchair next to his brother. “The whole time we’ve been here you have refused to give yourself any relaxation time. I fear we will never see you smile again!” Hanzo waved his brother off, _shoo_. “Father has already agreed that we should go.” 

That had struck a nerve. 

“Stop trying to force me into things I have no desire of doing,” Hanzo hissed with flaring annoyance. When Genji knitted his gratuitous eyebrows together in concern, the elder brother felt an immediate pang of regret. The sensation morphed into a heavy guilt when Genji’s timid voice spoke. 

“Do you not try to do the same to me, _brother_? With the constant reprimands and unwanted advice?” Ashamed, Hanzo turned away from his brother’s gaze. “We just want what’s best for each other. So, this will be the only thing I ask you do with me on this trip. I will not try to plan anything else. Promise.” 

It was hard to say ‘no’ at that point, so with a shallow nod, Hanzo sealed his fate. 

“Was does one even wear to a” - the elder brother leaned forward to read the obnoxious print on the brochure - “county fair and… _rodeo_?” The foreign word rolled harshly over his tongue. 

When Genji’s maniacal laughter rung throughout the room, Hanzo huffed and knew it was all going to end in disaster. 

\---

Despite his best efforts to get Genji to forget about the rodeo, or to try to plan other brotherly outings that would conflict with the county fair, the dreaded day arrived nonetheless and Hanzo found himself being dressed by his beaming younger brother. Genji draped him in a pair of fitted, black denim pants, a cobalt blue button up with the sleeves rolled up, and finished with some dark brown Oxfords. Numerous times, Hanzo had tried to push his sleeves back down and hide his dragon tattoo but each time Genji had sensed his intentions and swatted his hands away. 

“Be proud of who we are, Hanzo!” Genji had chided. The sparrow himself had elected to wear a tank top that dipped dangerously low around the sides, showing off his impressive musculature and his own green tattoo inked across his back. 

“You look ridiculous,” the elder brother deadpanned at Genji’s ensemble. It was entirely too casual to be worn at a public event. 

“It may surprise you, brother, but you will probably be the one who looks more out of place.” Genji’s ominous prediction hung in the air as the two Shimada heirs left the comfort of Hanzo’s suite. 

\--- 

It was loud. And disgustingly crowded. Essentially, it was just as horrid as he imagined it to be. Worst still, Genji kept his stomach assaulted with a heinous array of deep fried abominations and fatty foods. 

“I love the Americans!” the sparrow had shrieked when he showed Hanzo his latest find. “Deep fried… _butter_! They are truly fearless, brother!” Hanzo cringed as Genji bit into the brown dough ball. Liquid spurted out of sides of ninja’s mouth and Hanzo had to turn away in revulsion. 

He had taken a liking to the hand-dipped corn dogs but most everything else edible here was either too sugary, too fatty, or too excessive for him to really appreciate. It was no wonder the Americans had expanding waistlines.

“You will leave this country plump and sluggish, Genji,” said Hanzo as his brother popped the last butter-ball into his mouth. He was simply waved off with a shit-eating grin. 

“Come on, I want to go see the livestock show and rodeo competitions!” A firm hand latched onto his wrist and that’s how Hanzo found himself being dragged to the enormous stadium on the fairgrounds. 

Through the doors, the _odor_ immediately besieged them. Hanzo audibly dry heaved and Genji clutched his nose. Everyone strolling past seemed impossibly immune to the stench, and carried on as if they weren’t absorbing the foul stench of animal waste through their very skin. 

“Wow, that’s sharp!” the younger Shimada cackled with a nasal tone.

Hanzo shot his brother a withering glare, but allowed Genji to drag him towards the inner convention doors. Past the arches, a wild sight beheld them. Rows and rows of stalls selling everything from crocodile belts to actual hides for decor to authentic cowboy hats, and past that were a countless array of show animals that stood or rested in their small, metal pens. Even beyond that were huge signs for an “AGventure” section, a kids attraction with a petting zoo, chick incubators, and some low-tech ‘life on a farm’ simulators. Genji trotted off somewhere, wanting to explore or shop, and not wanting to stand in the middle of the floor looking lost, Hanzo moseyed over to what looked to be the center attraction in the main hall. 

Steel bleachers flanked each side of the enormous, oval arena. There was standing room around the curved edge closest to where you entered the convention hall, and so Hanzo found a suitable spot, draped his arms over the railing, and set about trying to figure out what the commotion was all about. On the far end, next to the wide opening, there was a huge, digital clock that peered out over the dirt arena. What was peculiar though were the three, lone barrels arranged in a triangle formation. What purpose could they possible serve? 

Overhead, a shoutcaster announced the name of the first competitor just as a rider on horseback came blitzing into sight. He had seen plenty of people dressed as cowboys at the fair, but here was an actual one, a working one (well, in a way). The horse and rider navigated the three barrels, in what he later recognized was a cloverleaf pattern, before they sprinted back through the opening they came through. The entire event was over in seconds. 17.511 seconds to be exact, courtesy of the digital clock. People in the stands applauded; Hanzo guessed that must have been a decent score. 

One by one, competitors emerged from the opening opposite of him and and did their weave across the dirt floor. A few knocked over a barrel, eliciting shocked gasps and then shouts of encouragement from the crowds, but most blazed through the course, racking up quick times. 

It was surprisingly entertaining. The duo of horse and rider made an impressive spectacle to say the least. Clumps of dirt sprayed in their wake as the beast’s brawny legs slingshotted the pair around barrels. So when the announcer came overheard to signal the last participant for the event, the noticeably louder cheering made him prick up his ears. Whomever this was about to be was clearly a crowd favorite. 

A horse, cut from a swath of black velvet, came hurtling into the arena. On its back was a man plucked from the covers of the ridiculous _American Cowboy_ magazines that flanked every entrance and exit in the convention center. His plaid long sleeved shirt was fitted to showcase his trim waist and sinewy arms. Crowning his head was a Stetson that had honest-to-god _bullet casings_ tucked in the hat band. Underneath was a mop of messy hair that caught the wind and fluttered across a tanned neck. 

Where the other competitors had an air of seriousness around them, this Jesse McCree person was a true entertainer. He grinned at the stands as his steed curved around barrels, whooped on the straightaways, and as the pair raced towards the final barrel, right in front of Hanzo, the cowboy’s eyes locked onto him. A smirk graced that strong face as the man reached up and just slightly tipped his hat to Hanzo. The black horse whipped around the final obstacle and shot off to the opening they came through. 

Jesse McCree’s time flashed onto the clock and Hanzo allowed himself to roll his eyes. The man hadn’t even beaten the best score so far. Clearly all the showmanship came at a cost. Hanzo turned to leave but stepping towards him was his errant brother. 

“Where have you been?” he glowered. 

“Browsing,” Genji answered steadily. “What’s this here?” Genji gestured to the arena before them. 

“I believe this is the _rodeo_ you specifically wanted to see.” 

“Where are the horses and cows?” 

“An event just finished.” 

“Anything exciting so far?” 

“...No,” Hanzo lied. 

Genji took up post next to him as rodeo attendants walked out to clear away the barrels. Shoutcasters came on again to recap the leaderboards and to state the next event: steer wrestling. It ended up being a battle of sorts between horns, hooves, and hands, as a pair of riders and horses bolted after a running steer, with one cowboy actually sliding off his horse onto the beast and wrestling it to its side. It didn’t seem too difficult until Genji pointed out you only had a few seconds to time your jump, and you had to be mindful of the horns that could gut you in an instant. 

Competitors came and went, one pair failing to get a time at all, and again the crowds cheered when Jesse McCree’s turn begun. It was… impressive, Hanzo begrudgingly admitted. Jesse slid off the velvet horse in one smooth motion and slung the steer on its side with wide arms that strained under the man’s darkened skin. The cowboy pumped a fist into the air and worked the crowd before he adjusted his brown Stetson. Hanzo’s gut thudded when underneath the brim of Jesse’s hat, a pair of walnut eyes glided over to look right at him. They definitely lingered, probably roved liberally over his body. Hanzo skewered the man with a look that sent him strutting back towards his steed. 

Hanzo clicked his tongue and looked to his brother… who stared at him now, mouth hanging slightly agape. 

“What was that!?” Genji nearly screeched, a grin filling his entire face.

“Nothing,” Hanzo soured. 

Genji clasped his shoulder and shook him. “You must be blind if you thought that was ‘nothing’, brother! He wanted you to notice him!” 

Hanzo shrugged his brother off. “The only thing I have noticed is that he is brazen and uncouth. He _disgraces_ this competition with his behavior.” Genji made a lamenting sigh but did not press the matter. 

The scores were totaled and Jesse McCree was able to climb a few spots after this last event. With only one more remaining however, Hanzo gathered that the man might not have a good enough score to advance to the next round. Perhaps Jesse should have been taking things more seriously. 

The last event, calf roping, proceeded similarly to the two prior. Jesse came out last, amidst cheers and whistles, and a piece of rope clenched between his teeth. The man threw a beautiful arching lasso that snagged the wayward animal quickly. Hanzo watched Jesse’s attractive silhouette as the man worked to bring the calf down and quickly tie its legs. The man threw his hands into the air and bellowed an excited whoop. His score blinked on the clock, the quickest of the event. Next to him, Genji applauded loudly and Hanzo too commended the performance. 

The brothers lingered long enough to find out that, despite winning the calf roping, Jesse McCree did not do well enough in the previous events to advance. A collective _awww_ sprung forth from the crowd (from Genji too) but Hanzo had already turned and began walking away from the arena. 

“Hanzo!” his brother shouted after him. “Don’t you want to stay?” 

“What for?” Hanzo called back. “The competition is over.” He felt a slight amount of amusement in Genji’s disappointed look; why should he care about a person he would surely never see again? 

\---

Hanzo slouched next his brother. Genji was definitely stalling. They’d walk through the same set of merchandise stalls for the last thirty minutes, and Hanzo was convinced that if his brother truly wanted to own an authentic pair of cowboy boots, he would at least try some on. 

“Genji, hurry up. We need to get going,” he sighed, annoyance clipped the ends of his words. 

“Aww, what’s the rush, darlin’?” 

Hanzo stiffened. Out of the corner of his eye, the brim of a Stetson hat came into focus, then the red plaid of a fitted button-up. Looking over his shoulder, Hanzo affirmed his instant suspicion: it was the cowboy. His mind then had a thought. As payback for earlier, the Shimada heir let his gaze wander slowly over the man who snuck up behind him. Jesse McCree was taller than he was, with a broad chest that was a testament to hard labor. A gaudy belt with a ridiculous buckle was nestled below the man’s midsection. Jesse’s thumbs were hooked in the pockets of his jeans, letting wide hands frame the cowboy’s- 

Hanzo aborted his observations with a tactical change of focus. “No reason to stay any longer.” His tone didn’t come off nearly as steely as he wanted. 

“Didn’t see ya at the awards ceremony.” Jesse’s voice words were honeyed as the man swayed a bit closer. The space between them suddenly felt too warm. 

Hanzo feigned taking interest in a leather wallet, manipulating the sturdy material between his fingers. “Should I have? You did not even place.” 

“ _Harsh,_ ” the other man commented, a soft chuckle rolling off his lips. “Well… at least I know you were payin’ attention to me.” 

“The only thing I noticed was-” 

“Alright, Hanzo, we can leave,” Genji announced disappointingly as his brother rounded a corner, coming back into Hanzo's line of sight. The younger Shimada immediately noticed the cowboy leaning close to his brother and Hanzo could swear he legitimately saw mischief sparkle in those eyes. “Oh! I’m sorry, was I interrupting your new friend?” 

“He’s hardly-” 

“Jesse McCree,” the cowboy said, reaching forward to offer his brother a handshake. 

Genji took the hand. “Yes, we saw you competing in the rodeo! I’m Genji, by the way.” 

“It’s a pleasure, Genji. I was only just going to ask… _Hanzo_ here, if he would be going to tonight’s concert.” They had both seen the signs for the star-studded performers lineup, and it was impossible to miss the looming stadium over the fairgrounds, but Genji had only gotten them general admittance tickets.

 “I am not actually.” Hanzo didn’t miss the slight sag to Jesse’s shoulders. 

“‘S a shame.” The cowboy went on, “Well, perhaps I could give you a tour of the city on another day. Y’all look like you ain’t from around here. Just-” he started, cutting Hanzo off before the Shimada heir could speak his rejection, “-think about it, okay? Then call me with your answer later.” Jesse fished out a small folded card and handed it to Hanzo, who took it with obvious reluctance. 

Genji elbowed Hanzo, hard. “I… apologize for my brother’s rudeness. We appreciate your offer and will duly consider it.” 

Jesse tipped his hat to the two brothers, turned and walked off. Once the cowboy could no longer be seen, Hanzo crumpled the paper in his hand. 

“Stop!” Genji bleated next to him, prying the paper ball from Hanzo’s fingers. “Hanzo, what is wrong with you!?” 

He scowled at the undue reprimand. “We did not come to America for _pleasure_ , Genji. I have a duty to uphold, skills to practice and learn while I am here. I cannot go…  _gallivanting_ off with some foreigner!” 

His brother sighed as nimble fingers straightened out the crumpled note. “I don’t want to see you become an old man, filled with regret, Hanzo.” For some reason, that really stung. “The cowboy had this ready for you before he even approached. At least consider it, brother.” Genji offered back the small slip of paper. 

Hanzo took it, and un-enthusiastically promised to think about it. 

\---

Even his father had agreed Jesse’s offer could be beneficial, citing that it may be useful to have a better grasp on the city they were looking to expand into. It sounded dubious at best, and if had been from Genji’s mouth, he would have thought it from his brother’s propensity to meddle. 

Hanzo gave it a week before he punched the number into his cell one night after dinner. 

The phone only rang once before a scruffy voice came through. “ _I_ _f you keep buggin’ me, Reyes, I swear I’ll never get this report done._ ” 

Hanzo blinked and pulled the phone away just to double check he did insert in the right numbers. “This is Hanzo,” he corrected. A sudden commotion of noise rumbled from the other side of the phone. He faintly heard a door click shut. 

“ _Oh! Howdy, darlin’,_ ” Jesse’s voice was noticeably subdued this time. “ _If I’m bein’ honest, I had givin’ up hopin’ you would give me a call._ ” Papers shuffled around on the other side of the phone. 

He shifted his weight, alone in the bedroom, drenched in darkness. “Well, here I am. Doing such.” 

A soft chuckle through the phone made him want to hide all of sudden; the vulnerability of it all screamed at him to flee. “ _I can see. So, what can I do for ya? Did you change your mind about my offer?_ ” 

“Actually… yes. I want to take you up on it.” Hanzo moved his phone to the other ear, but it was just as hot and uncomfortable. Surely this was where embarrassment swallowed him whole, never to be seen ago.   

“ _I’m really happy to hear that, Hanzo._ ” He could hear the grin on the other man’s face too. “ _How does grabbin’ dinner sound? I know this amazin’ barbecue place in West Hollywood. I can pick you up too, show you some parts of the city on the way._ ” 

“Yes. That sounds acceptable.” His stomach churned something fierce. Suitors usually traveled to Shimada castle where he could intimidate and interrogate them in the comfort of his home turf. This was truly a disaster waiting to happen. 

“ _Perfect. Talk to you later, Hanzo._ ” A click signaled that Jesse had hung up. He stood there for only a moment before he marched straight to Genji’s room. 

\---

Hanzo padded down the hotel entrance steps, his dress shoes making a satisfying _slap_ with every decent. The California breeze whipped against him, blowing his long inky hair across his face. He paused, looking for Jesse supposedly waiting for him in the curved roundabout, and he soon spotted the man waving furiously within a car parked along the left side. 

A heavy sigh ripped from the dragon. _Of course_ , his mind wailed upon seeing what was going to be their mode of transportation for the evening. He berated himself for not seeing this coming. The cowboy was a long list of Americana tropes and so it made perfect sense for the man to _legitimately_ drive a tomato-red, obnoxious metal cage of car that was the Chevy Camaro. It even had pearl white racing stripes down the hood to boot. 

He turned and started walking back up the steps. 

Jesse hollered at him, and the sound of an engine roaring to life filled the neat little hotel courtyard. Brakes squealed and, Jesse started yelling at him again. “Hanzo! Wait a second! Come on, just give the two of us a chance, sweetheart!” 

He froze and looked over his shoulder. The monstrosity was a bonafide gasoline powered car, even had the rubber tires and rotary wheels that were quickly becoming too unsafe to have on the roads. “You are surely going to kill us both in that thing,” Hanzo stated matter-of-factly. 

“No hold on just a moment, I’m a _great_ driver, Hanzo. You know the restrictions on these classic cars are intense. If I was reckless, I would have long lost my permit to have her.” The excited smile still hadn’t left the cowboy’s face. The other man looked at Hanzo as if he was the most interesting thing in the city. If Jesse had a tail, perhaps he would even be wagging it. 

He sighed heavily again and strode towards the passenger door. Jesse booked it back to the driver’s seat, looking as giddy as a schoolgirl. 

\---

They ended up staying out until late into the night, cruising along the California coast after dinner with the comforting buzz of the radio and Jesse’s dulcet tones filling the car cabin. Afterwards, Jesse had walked him to the hotel doors like a true gentleman, wished him a goodnight, and asked if they could do this again sometime. 

Hanzo had nodded, finding that he had enjoyed their night out more than he originally imagined. On the elevator ride up, his stomach churned, a potent mixture of excitement and happiness that threatened to shatter his feigned disinterest as he stepped into his family suites. 

Genji glanced up from the holo-TV, a Cheshire grin spread across his brother’s feature. “Sooo, how’d it go?” 

He made a noncommittal grunt as he continued to his private room, but the slight grin on his father’s face told him that he wasn’t fooling them. 

\--- 

“I will be… out… for the afternoon and evening,” Hanzo announced over breakfast a few weeks later. His news was only heard by a sole individual as their father had left for The City by the Bay days ago. Hanzo had protested his being left behind, but his father quietly divulged that the trip may be unsafe for the young heir. At least it afforded him more time with Jesse, he supposed. 

Genji’s head snapped up to him with amusement plastered across his features. “That must be the third time since Monday! I’m glad the cowboy continues to be to your tastes, brother.” The sly look Genji gave him is enough to make Hanzo regret saying anything at all. As he pushed himself up from the table and made his way back towards his private suite, Genji called out to him. “I’ll be staying out tonight, feel free to bring him here, if you need the privacy!” 

Through the closed door, he heard Genji laughing to himself. 

\--- 

“Why the sour look, darlin’?” Jesse asked when Hanzo slammed the Camaro’s door shut.

The Shimada pouted for a bit, electing to stare out at the passing buildings rather than give an answer. But, it was hard to stay upset when Jesse’s warm hand squeezed his thigh, a calming presence that broke down his resistances. 

“My brother teases me about our… our…” 

“Dates?” Jesse supplied after Hanzo fumbled for the right word. 

They _were_ dates, in all honesty, but the word still made him blush just ever so slightly and almost feel a twinge of shame in his gut. Imagine it: Hanzo Shimada going on dates with an American cowboy. The tabloids back home would have had a field day with this knowledge. But the beauty of their circumstances was that he was nearly anonymous in this country. He could be a normal twenty-three year-old going to dinner and the movies with a handsome man on his arm. 

With a flare of desire, Hanzo nodded. “He even implied that I could… bring you to our suites tonight, since no one will be there.” 

To his left, a slow grin morphed across Jesse’s face. The cowboy didn’t turn to him, a careful eye on the downtown traffic, but Hanzo felt the prickle of a knowing gaze nonetheless. 

“Now, Hanzo,” that thick voice began, “I wouldn’t ask that of you. I can guess you probably wouldn’t appreciate your family becomin’ privy to any of your personal _affairs_ , and I’m not the kind of man to intrude like that. _However_ , I do find myself not likin’ the idea of you bein’ all alone on a weekend night.” 

“Did you have something in mind?” Hanzo tried to say as evenly as possible, attempting to hide the peaked curiosity growing inside him. 

“I might… but we’ll discuss after the movie, m’kay?” 

Jesse’s undisclosed proposition nibbled at Hanzo for the entire evening. It stained every conversation they had over dinner (a no-frills place that had a surprisingly masterful take on the classic pizza formula), and stagnated in his brain when they waited for the film to start (where the seats were not individual chairs but luxurious couches - he had balked, Jesse had offered his lap as a possible alternative). It wasn’t until afterwards, when the cowboy corralled him against the Camaro, did Jesse finally indulge him. 

“I want to take you somewhere tonight. And no, it’s not to ‘my place’,” the cowboy chuckled, swiping a hand quickly through his brown locks. “But here’s the thing, I want it to be a surprise, so… you’ll need to take a leap into the unknown for me.” 

Hanzo mulled it over in his head, not because he was genuinely hesitating, but because he was quietly enjoying the way Jesse’s physique crowded around him, and how those warm eyes gripped him with a searing plea. 

“Overnight?” he queried. A nod. “...Alone?”

“Mhmmm.” 

The sensation of a hand brushing against his hip sent a finger of electricity lancing up his spine. It crackled in the base of his skull; his hand lifted upwards to clutch the hem of Jesse’s shirt in response. Something to steady him. Jesse tilted forward, just barely, but the motion made Hanzo’s breath hitch, a sharp intake that parted his lips. 

A quiet _click_ and a soft nudge from behind him abruptly broke the spell. Looking down, McCree had popped the passenger door open. Heat flamed across his cheeks at how easily he’s been spurred on by the cowboy’s ruse. 

“Is that a yes, Hanzo?” 

With a feigned look of annoyance, the Shimada shoved Jesse back and quickly slipped into the car. The cowboy swung the door shut with a soft chuckle and a lopsided smile. 

\--- 

It only took Hanzo half an hour to ready himself and pack an overnight bag for their mystery excursion. He showered too for good measure. His efficiency now rendered him idling in the the quiet suite with growing nervous anticipation. He twirled his phone absentmindedly in hand, waiting for Jesse to call. A thought came to mind: he should probably let Genji know he will be gone too, in case something happened. A quick touch unlocked his phone, a small swipe brought up Genji’s and his conversation. 

|| **_9:27pm_**  
Genji, I will be out of the hotel tonight as well.  
Please do not hesitate to call me if something arises.

 || **_9:29pm_ ** **\- Genji Shimada**  
HANZO!!!!  
Are you spending the night with the cowboy?? 

|| **_9:30pm_**  
Jesse is taking me somewhere but he has assured me it is not to his place.  
It is a surprise. Supposedly. 

|| **_9:33pm_ ** **\- Genji Shimada**  
I want hear what happened in the morning!!  
Have fun and be safe! ;D

|| **_9:33pm_**  
You too.

 Hanzo stifled a frustrated sigh. Genji’s implications were always far-fetched. That wasn’t how things were going to play out. Agreeing to and participating in these dates was already unusual enough for him; he wasn’t the type of person to have a full blown “summer fling”. 

Hanzo padded to a leather armchair and sunk down into it. The cold material chilled his jittery nerves, but only just. In fact, it soon had him imagining leaning back into an broad chest, with tan, sinewy skin sliding across his own… 

Hanzo glanced at his phone again. Another half hour had ebbed by, painfully slow. 

He languished in anticipation. No one had ever whisked him away in the middle of the night before. And where would Jesse take them? A club in town, throbbing with bodies, packed and buzzing enough to almost feel alone together in the crowd? Or would the cowboy spring for something more intimate? And which did Hanzo prefer? 

There was no denying that the dragons hungered. He was never discouraged from tasting the fruits of this world, but Hanzo had kept a tight rein on himself; his deep sense of duty towards upholding the Shimada dynasty tended to reduce many courtiers to unappealing distractions. But now, Hanzo _wanted_. 

The phone chimed in his hand. Jesse was parked outside.

\--- 

The cowboy had the passenger window rolled down and greeted Hanzo as he walked up. 

“You can toss your bag in the backseats, Hanz.” The Shimada raised a proud brow at the nickname. Jesse noticed his intrigue and laughed it off. “Just tryin’ new things, darlin’.” 

“So,” Hanzo began when they pulled out of the hotel roundabout, “are you going to tell me where we are going now?”

“Nope! You’ll just have to wait and see.” Jesse quickly turned to him and flashed a toothy smile. 

Neon lights filtered through the windshield as they meandered through downtown Los Angeles. Anxiety and excitement bubbled together in Hanzo's chest, making a delightful fizz. He was _really_ doing this. Off to somewhere unknown with a stranger in a foreign land. Well, if Jesse could be called a stranger at this point; the man was fast becoming the familiar. And perhaps, after tonight, that distinction would also take on a pleasant change. Suddenly, Hanzo understood the appeal Genji saw in a lifestyle all about living and loving easy. 

When they merged onto the hyperlanes, Jesse floored it. Surprised by the abrupt momentum, Hanzo’s stomach sloshed almost uncomfortably against his spine, and a hand bolted out to brace himself against the passenger door. Jesse’s Camaro weaved smoothly through the steady flow of autos and set a bristling pace in the one lane reserved for human drivers. The cowboy softly chuckled as Hanzo visibly relaxed and settled them into a cruising speed. 

“Did I give you a heart attack there, darlin’?” 

“No, it was just unexpected.” Then, after a pregnant pause, Hanzo continued, “If I may speak truthfully, I had never ridden in a gasoline powered vehicle before, and the acceleration is always…” 

“Exhilaratin’’?” Jesse offered with a smirk. 

“Startling, is a more appropriate word. But yes, it is - surprisingly - enjoyable.” 

Cars and lights and signs streaked past around them as they drove further away from downtown. Objects emerged from the gloom only to live a brief existence in the headlights before returning to the darkness. Soon, the traffic flittered out considerably, rendering them a tiny bubble of life on the otherwise empty and black road. 

Hanzo breaks the silence. “I have a question.” 

“Shoot.” 

“It is a… serious one,” said the Shimada steadily. 

“Oh. What’s up, Hanzo?” 

His nerves tingled electric but this had been brushed aside for too long. 

“What is your occupation? You cannot be a full time cowboy to own such a vehicle and afford the associated fees.” Hanzo waited for a reply but Jesse stayed silent. Quickly, he clarified, “Your answer will not change how I feel about tonight.” In the following moment, Hanzo watched Jesse thoughtfully stroke the steering wheel with a thumb. 

“You don’t want to have this conversation face to face? Sittin’ down?” the other man finally asked. 

“No, I do not wish to delay it any longer. And, we are sitting down.” 

Jesse flicked off the radio; the cabin became deafeningly quiet. “Just promise me one thing, Hanzo. Your first reaction will be to freak out. As hard as you can, I want you to fight that feelin’, and try to give me the benefit of the doubt.” Jesse looked at him with a pleading expression and Hanzo nodded his agreement. “I… I work for a kind of law enforcement.” 

Jesse was right. At the utterance of those words, Hanzo’s heart quickened and his mind immediately flashed to his brother and father, began the process of formulating a plan.

“Hanzo.” That voice. Suspicion pricked at his nerves. “Hanzo, I was not and _am not_ investigatin’ you or anythin’.” 

Slowly, he asked, “What ‘kind’ of law enforcement? Be honest with me, please.” 

“... Overwatch,” the other man answered with a huffed sigh. All at once, Jesse became _dangerous_ . This could be bad. An Overwatch _agent_ making contact with him during their business venture… Jesse was right; he did want to “freak out”. 

“Why were you at the rodeo?” Hanzo said, beginning his interrogation. 

“I had some time off and it’s just a pastime I got into.” 

“It is not a cover?” 

“No.” 

After a moment of quiet, “Why did you approach me?” 

“I caught you watchin’ me, and when I stared back, you glared at me like I was the most foul thing on this earth. So, I just had to talk to ya.” Jesse spoke with either genuine honesty, or had tailored answers to these types of questions beforehand. 

“Why did you not mention this before?” 

“Should I have? It’s not like you’ve been forward to me about why _you’re_ visitin’ the States.” Hanzo froze. It was true; he had not been forthcoming about his ‘occupation’ in any of the conversations they’ve had thus far. When the Shimada remained silent, Jesse continued, “I think I can take a guess however, which is why I asked for you not to freak out on me.” 

Hanzo’s gaze followed Jesse’s as it came to rest on his tattoo, on proud display for their midnight rendezvous. His instincts wanted to regret the decision, but Jesse likely knew the implications of the Shimada brother’s similar tattoos as soon as he saw them. If he had known this whole time, and yet… 

“I do like you, Hanzo, honest to God I do. I don’t know why you and your family are in LA, and for both of our sakes, I don’t _want_ to know, but please believe me when I say I have no ulterior motives with you.” 

They sat in silence for many moments. 

“We are-” Hanzo tried to start. 

“You don’t need to explain, Hanz. I realized that it wouldn’t matter. I would still be attracted to you like a moth to flame.” 

The sides of Hanzo’s mouth wanted to pull up into a smile. It was same way with himself, he was learning. The magnetic pull between them still lingered, as strong as ever in light of the recent confessions.

“Do you want me to turn us around?” Jesse slowly asked. 

“No.” The assuredness of the answer should have scared him, but it simply didn’t. They each had vulnerabilities, but Jesse’s choice to still take a chance imbued him with courage. 

Jesse poked the radio back on and Hanzo found himself being steadily lulled to sleep on the constant thrum of a gasoline engine. 

\--- 

“Hey.” 

A hand prodded him in the side. “ _Nng…_ ” 

“We’re here, sleepyhead.” 

Hanzo picked himself off the cool window. His neck felt stiff from the awkward angle he must have rolled into at some point. Blinking in the bright cabin lights, Hanzo stretched himself out in the seat before unbuckling. 

“Where are we?” he queried with a sleepy drawl. 

Jesse had pushed his seat down and was grabbing up their personal effects from the back seats. “Get out and see.” 

Humming at the prospect of having to move from the warm chair, Hanzo finally stepped out of the car with many exaggerated motions. But the fanfare fell away when his tired eyes registered what was around them. 

It was dark. Well, it _would_ be completely dark if not for the blazing streak of silver across the night sky. Crested with faint pinks and rich violets, the Milky Way hung majestic in the heavens above them. A multitude of stars, more than Hanzo had ever seen in his life, peppered the black backdrop like a choir of angels flocking around God. 

Hanzo’s mind released all tangible thought as he stared upwards with true awe. His legs buckled, as if his primal soul understood it was appropriate to fall to his knees in reverence. He stayed there until his flesh shivered from the chilly night wind. With a shudder, he was finally released from the spell. 

Around him, a small camp had been set up. Jesse was sitting, leaning back on his hands, near a gurgling fire. A small grin graced his face as Hanzo looked at him. 

“How-” Hanzo’s mouth felt fuzzy and his voice sounded barely audible, as if rendered entirely small by the gargantuan being looking down at them. “How long was I like that?” he managed to get out. 

“Maybe like… twenty minutes? Don’t worry though, many people have the same reaction.” Jesse gestured towards a sun-baked log for Hanzo to sit on. 

“Where are we?” 

“Death Valley National Park. ‘Bout a three hour drive from LA, but we made it here in two,” replied Jesse smoothly. 

Hanzo’s glazed flicked from the crackling fire to Jesse, and back again. “This is not what I was expecting.” 

“In a good way, yeah?” 

The Shimada heir nodded. He had suspected glitzy clubs and penthouse suites, but never a place that made him feel inconsequential in the grand scheme of the universe. It was a pleasant release from the pressure that had been bearing down on his shoulder. A chance to ‘slow down and smell the roses’, as Jesse might say. 

“What do we do now?” Hanzo asked, curious if Jesse had plans for them. 

Jesse’s shoulders hunched upwards in a jerky shrug. “Whatever you want, darlin’. I brought some drinks if you just want to talk. We could even go for a _romantic stroll_ through the cacti and Joshua trees. Or we could just sit here. If I’m honest though, I’m a little tuckered out from the drive.” 

Hanzo felt the pull again, deep in his gut, as Jesse laid down fully on the desert sand. His deep amber eyes freely roamed across the cowboy’s figure, mind wandered to the dance they had been doing around each other. The Shimada pushed himself off the log and prowled towards Jesse. With a deft step and easy motion, Hanzo sunk down and straddled the cowboy. The contact felt better than he had imagined. 

Jesse’s head popped up off the ground. “Well, hello there,” the other man said in a low tremor. 

Electricity raced up Hanzo’s spine and buried itself into the back of his neck. Those rough hands soon found purchase on Hanzo’s thighs, and where Jesse touched him, a burning heat grew. Whisky eyes, a rich brown and intoxicating, reflected Hanzo’s own desires right back at him. Such a simple thing that shattered the last remnants of his reservations. 

Hanzo’s hands fisted Jesse’s shirt and yanked the other man up into a heady kiss. It was a ravenous thing, unlike ones the he conceded in the past, simply expected milestones in a courtship used to gauge viability. This time, his mouth acted on it’s own, wanting, claiming, sure in its movements. 

The Shimada heir felt Jesse’s hands sliding languidly across his firm cheeks and then wrapping onto a tight hold across the small of his back. The cowboy pulled them together, flush, chest to chest. Lost in the tangle of their embrace and desperate touches, Hanzo’s mind was quickly losing track of who was the one gasping into the night, or who was rutting against the other.

 Finally, Jesse pulled them apart and whispered a ragged request. “Get up for a second.” 

Hanzo complied and stood on wobbly legs, they were near cramping from kneeling on the desert ground. But he was only teetering for a few moments before broad, tawny arms scooped him up. Bewilderment glowed in his amber eyes but Jesse offered no answer but a wolfish grin before he walked them over and deposited Hanzo on the hood of the Camaro. 

The pressure that was forming in Hanzo’s chest surged when Jesse leaned close and took his chin between a thumb and index finger. 

“I want to blow you, Hanz.” Jesse’s smoky voice rumbled in way that made the Shimada heir hyper-aware of how uncomfortable his erection was becoming, caged in his pants. What the cowboy was proposing should be horridly shameless. Something that even Genji might find too lewd for their proper upbringing. But the chill of metal seeping through his clothes and skin was only deliciously tempting. 

Ambient light from the snapping fire cast a halo around Jesse as the other man settled between his legs. Hanzo’s fritzed mind sputtered out the observation that nothing of what was about to follow would be angelic. Jesse shimmied his pants, underwear and shoes off with a fluid motion, and quickly tucked the shed clothes between his burning skin and the hood of the car. Lacking the gall to outright watch (for now), Hanzo leaned back, his body laying across the metal and head coming to rest on the gentle slope of glass. 

“Are you cold?” 

Quite the opposite actually. The crisp night air felt amazing ghosting across his burning thighs. “No,” Hanzo grunted in reply. Gentle fingers then wrapped around his erection and Hanzo felt himself suck in a shuddering gulp of air. 

“Just try to relax, darlin’. There’s no expectations here; just wanna make you feel good.” 

A soft tear of plastic, then the sensation of a condom being deftly rolled onto his dick made Hanzo’s nerves shudder anew. Relaxing seemed like a tall order when Jesse’s hot mouth teased the head of his cock, seemed impossible when the man started sucking him in deeper and deeper. He reeled from it all: felt the curve of Jesse’s lips turn into a wicked tongue, then a tight throat, wanted those hands that grabbed greedily at his ass to cover his body entirely, relished in the simultaneous pleasure of the slow build up and the desire to be released. 

The cowboy worked him with expert ease. When Hanzo’s hips begun to make shallow thrusts into the mouth that was swallowing him whole, Jesse wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and the Shimada heir nearly mewled from the welcomed pressure on his pubic bone. 

“ _Jesse_ …” he hissed, surprising himself with the obvious desire that laced his voice. 

That greedy and hungry mouth quickened its feasting, sending Hanzo careening over the edge. His eyes fluttered open as he was wracked with the waves of orgasm. The glorious gash of the milky heavens stared down at him with an infinite number of flickering eyes. What a view. 

With a ragged gasp, Hanzo’s fingers fell from Jesse’s head and his abdominal muscles finally unclenched. Blurry, amber eyes watched puffed lips slide off his… blue dick? 

Hanzo blinked at the colored latex. “Blue?” he sputtered into the night. 

Mirth sprung forth in Jesse’s eyes as he carefully removed the used condom, tied it off and chucked it into the fire behind them. “Berry flavored,” the other man finally answered, waggling the torn wrapping in the air. “I also had Vanilla and Cola, but I figured this one would match your tattoo there.” 

The Shimada heir couldn’t stop himself from cocking his head and rolling his eyes. “You came well prepared then.” 

“Can’t fault a man for hoping,” Jesse beamed, offering a hand to Hanzo to help him up. “... Feel good?” 

Heat flushed to the surface of his cheeks. Of all the moments to feel embarrassment. “Very much so,” he eventually got out. “What… about yourself?” 

Jesse’s lips touched the crown of his forehead as the cowboy pulled them together. For a while, they just held onto one another, idly exchanging affectionate movements and touches. Hanzo felt himself ebb into a deep sense of comfort, something that was never present with other lovers, if the men and women in his past could even be called that. There were always expectations and judgement calls that pervaded his courtships. Always interested parties who hyper-analyzed his potential partner’s viability as a lifelong companion, genetic consort, and social ambassador for the clan; it made the whole process horridly un-sexy. 

Jesse’s voice pierced his musings, “We’ll get to me in a second, darlin’. Gettin’ tired, at all?” 

The cowboy’s continued thoughtfulness tugged at the corners of Hanzo’s lips. “Perhaps a bit. You seem more lively compared to earlier,” he jested.

 “Caught a second wind,” Jesse surmised, a floppy smile gracing the man’s shadowed face. Slowly, Jesse leaned down to capture Hanzo’s mouth once more. An unhurried dance of lips and tongues that stood in stark contrast to the frenzied tempo from earlier. “I want to” - Jesse whispered, punctuating their kisses - ”show you somethin’… a part of me…” 

Jesse untangled their bodies despite Hanzo’s growled objections and fetched a blanket from the car, handing it to Hanzo. Generalized interest turned into concern as the Shimada heir noticed Jesse slinking his hands into his pockets, shoulders bunching together as the man stood near the glowing fire. His mind jumped from possibility to possibility; what was making Jesse nervous? 

“Maybe you should sit down,” the other man suggested. Hanzo complied and sank to the ground on his knees, the blanket draped over his shoulders. “I guess… firstly… I feel very strongly about you, Hanz. I know you’re only in the States temporarily but that hasn’t stopped me from developin’ a strong attachment to you. And I know I’d get hell for willfully fraternizin’ with a… a crime lord, but I still want to make a genuine go at” - Jesse gestured between them - “whatever this becomes, and that starts with me bein’ honest with you.” 

Jesse took in a deep breath. Hanzo’s fingers curled into fists, preparing for whatever was to come. 

“Same thing as before, alright?” the other man added. “Try not to… freak out.” 

Abruptly, Jesse’s body became consumed in a flash of light and the man was gone. In his stead now stood a hulking, russet wolf. What first arrested Hanzo is the beast’s massive size, easily longer than the Camaro from snout to tail, and if he were standing, the wolf would easily tower over him. Even under a thick coat of fur, the bulky musculature was plainly evident; this was no tamed companion, but a creature that hunted and fought and ran. However, it was those vividly gold eyes, carefully observing him, that captured and pinned Hanzo where he kneeled. 

The wolf took a tentative step towards him, one giant paw sunk into the desert dirt. Voices that he hadn’t heard in awhile, the spirit dragons bound to his arm, shouted together in a chorus of excitement. He felt them writhing together, drawn to another otherworldly beast. 

The wolf closed the distance between them, a huge head and maw now within an arm’s reach. It’s golden eyes bored into Hanzo, intelligence sparked in their metallic sheen, still watching him. Cautiously, the Shimada heir lifted an open palm towards the beast. His lungs filled with a sharp intake of breath when fine, rust-colored hairs tickled his skin. Hanzo took a moment to asses the situation, then relaxed his arm and his palm came to rest on the bridge of the wolf’s nose. 

“Jesse?” he asked, his voice quiet. Yellow eyes widened just barely, a tail flicked upwards. “I… would have never guessed this.” Another movement of the tail, something akin to a wag this time. 

It quickly became apparent that Jesse could not speak in this new form, and so they settled down around the fire, enjoying each other’s presence in a new way. It had taken a few exaggerated head motions, but Jesse had eventually conveyed that it was okay for Hanzo to lay against him, and he did. Tiredness tugged sharply at his muscles and bones, and with Jesse’s soothing heat ebbing into him, Hanzo could not resist its siren song for long.

\---   

He awoke in Jesse’s arms, the man’s, not the wolf’s. Gone were those golden eyes; the only hint of the wolf being some errant hairs that clinged to his clothes. The sky was a dusty pink, no sign of the cosmic show of last night. 

“Mornin’, darlin’. We need to get going before the sun starts to cook us.” 

“Hmm…” Hanzo hummed, feeling slightly stiff from sleeping on the ground. “Carry me,” he commanded sleepily. He felt the softest chuckle ghost across his ear as Jesse hauled him upwards, cradling the Shimada heir like a blushing bride to the open car.

It took no time for Jesse to pack up their makeshift campsite and set off back towards civilization. Now with the light shining on their surroundings, Hanzo observed just how remote Jesse had taken them. No streetlights, no highways signs, and no other people until they finally passed the park entrance and visitor’s center. Perhaps Jesse’s decision to bring him here was twofold: to allow him the opportunity to see the Milky Way in all its majestic glory, and to show Hanzo the wolf in a place where there would not be prying eyes.

Jesse accelerated onto the hyperlanes; the passing clusters of cacti and scraggly bushes blurred in Hanzo’s vision. Within a few hours, they would be back in downtown LA; the mystery and magic of the desert night just a memory. The cowboy reached over and placed a large hand on his thigh. In all his forms, warmth radiated from Jesse. 

“Tell me,” the Shimada started, his eyes still gazing out the passenger window, “about the wolf.” 

The cowboy did not flinch or react next him. The hand still rested there, comfortable and content. “What do you want to know?” the other man asked. 

“Are you… a werewolf?” 

“That’s a passable word for it.” Jesse pauses only to flick off the car radio before continuing. “The legends and stereotypes about my kind are mostly untrue however. For one, the wolf _is_ me, just in another shape. And, as you saw, I don’t become some mindless animal just because I now have fur and fangs.” A soft chuckle finished Jesse’s explanation. 

“When were you bitten?”

“I wasn’t. I was born like this.” Hanzo turned his head to look at Jesse with confusion. Hearing his unspoken question, the cowboy went on. “My parents were as well and so when they had me, the… ‘condition’ was passed along. Many changed folks spend years grapplin’ with their new forms, but it is always normal to me, always just another part of who I am.” 

“You said ‘were’...” 

“Yeah, they’ve been dead for a while now. Killed by another pack durin’ a territorial raid.” Jesse’s voice is even and calm. “I still miss them some days, but I’m at peace with what happened. They were fighters and died protectin’ me and our home.” 

“My… mother is also gone,” Hanzo uttered after a few moments of silence. The words felt thick in his mouth. He had never told anyone outside the Shimada- _gumi_ about his late mother, but with the cowboy, there was always a growing comfort and ease between them. Jesse said nothing, just gently gave his thigh a squeeze. It was more than enough though. As shrublands eventually gave way to houses, then skyscrapers, Hanzo knew he was falling, and fast. 

\--- 

Genji ambushed Hanzo as soon as the elder brother stepped foot in the shared family space. There was a multitude of prying questions and the grin on the little sparrow’s face grew wider and wider as Hanzo spun his tale of the night (with some necessary edits, of course). 

“Does he make you happy, brother?” Genji asked afterwards, still grinning from ear to ear. 

Hanzo only paused for a second. “Yes, he does, but unfortunately that does not matter much.” 

Genji looked perplexed before the younger Shimada brother became solemn, understanding showed on his face. It did not matter because Hanzo’s feelings were moot in the grand scheme of things. They had a little less than two months left before they would return to Hanamura. And that was only the primary issue with the situation. Genji and his father did not even know of the true nature of Jesse’s employment, and he dare not think of how, or even if, an Overwatch agent and an heir to a criminal empire could feasibly coexist. They had a tentative agreement to overlook that reality, in pursuit of this short lived tryst, but Hanzo knew he duty came first regardless of what his heart begged for. 

\--- 

Hanzo did not see Jesse for another two weeks. His days were filled to bursting with overviews of how negotiations went in San Francisco, what his father’s plans were going forward, and what would be accomplished in the meantime. The subject of Jesse was brought up only briefly, to his father’s genuine interest, but Hanzo did not let conversations progress past the bare minimum of details. Genji had looked honestly downtrodden, but such was their reality, and dwelling on the fact did nothing to lessen the pain. 

The cowboy - no, Overwatch _agent_ \- kept in contact on their days apart. Texts sprinkled throughout the day, funny pictures with added captions, links to potential activities they could do together whenever their free time lined up, even simple tidbits like ‘thinking of you’, and ‘sweet dreams Hanz’. 

With the day’s responsibilities finally over, Hanzo fished his phone out of a pocket and swiped open the text conversation between himself and Jesse. Mechanical keyboard sounds emanated from his phone as he typed out a short message. It was already late and he wasn’t expecting a response until the morning perhaps, so when his phone chimed on his way to the en-suite, Hanzo did a double take. 

|| **_1:47am_ **  
Jesse, I am free until next Tuesday. Would we be able to plan an outing together?

|| **_1:50am_ ** **\- Jesse McCree**  
Hanz!  
Youre up late  
Did you have anything particular in mind?  
I have something to take care of in the afternoon but i can reschedule everything else

Hanzo paused where he stood. Why was he afraid to ask for what he wanted? Considering what they had already done together, there was no need to feel like he was being too forward. The Shimada heir steeled his nerves.

|| **_1:53am_ **  
I want to spend another night with you. Preferably more than one, if that would be possible.  
I am unfamiliar with the city though, and my own accommodations would be unsuitable.

|| **_1:58am_ ** **\- Jesse McCree**  
I think i can make that happen  
Will Genji get lonely if i whisk you away for a couple days? ;P

|| **_2:01am_** **\- Jesse McCree**  
Should i pack condoms and lube?

|| **_2:13am_ **  
I am sure Genji will find something, or someone, to entertain him in my absence.  
And yes, to the latter. 

|| **_2:13am -_ ** **Jesse McCree**  
Cant wait darling  <3  
I gotta crash for the night tho  
Sweet dreams Hanz 

\--- 

The following evening, Jesse took Hanzo by the hand and led them through the enormous glass doors of the hotel Jesse picked out for them. The cowboy had checked them in earlier so now he hauled Hanzo almost at a hurried pace through the ornate lobby. The Shimada heir caught the doorman looking at the odd pair before the employee scuttled away, finding something to busy himself with. The people at the front desk gave them a similar treatment, averting their eyes almost immediately, and busied their hands with papers, phones, and struck up conversations with each other. 

In the elevator, Hanzo brought up the unusual behavior. 

“They know some their clients value discretion and privacy,” Jesse answered. The other man noticed Hanzo beginning to look abashed at the unsaid implications so he quickly spoke up to quell any mounting regret. “It’s not what you’re thinkin’, darlin’. Well, not entirely,” the cowboy teased as he rubbed a soft spot just under Hanzo’s rib cage. Even then, the touch warmed the Shimada heir’s belly. “Not just anyone can get a room here, thanks to their pretty stringent vettin’ process, but it results in a very unique experience. You may find yourself loungin’ poolside with heiresses, CEOs, media celebrities, you name it. Every person who walks these halls can change the world we live in, in some way. Includin’ us,” Jesse added with a wink. 

The elevator dinged and deposited them in a brightly lit hallway. The Overwatch agent guided them past a smattering of doors before stopping and carding the last one. 

The room they walked into is beyond impressive. It mimicked the 2030’s art deco rival motifs that started in the hotel lobby, but took on a more subdued and classic look in the expansive suite. Real wooden floors clapped a satisfying sound under their feet; nothing like the dull carpet in the Shimadas’ rooms. Tasteful black and white photographs of old Hollywood stars peppered the walls. And the view--the _view!_ \--was utterly breathtaking. The downtown skyline stretched out before them, and beyond the skyscrapers were the rolling California hills. How it must look come nightfall… 

Hanzo realized that his feet carried him towards the generous balcony only when the metal railings shock him with cold. Looking out at the city radiating outwards, he almost felt equally at home, as if he was staring out at Hanamura. 

Jesse’s sudden presence nearly startled him, but Hanzo leaned into the hand that began massaging his head with soothing motions. With a slow tug, the other man gently pulled the band holding Hanzo’s hair in a low ponytail. His freed locks now billowed in the California breeze.

“Stunning,” McCree whispered; his hand tucked some wayward strands of hair behind Hanzo’s ear. 

“What is?” the young dragon asked, wanting to hear the answer he already knew. 

“You.” 

\--- 

Later, they lay on the couch, naked and flushed against each other, and watched the lights from far away buildings twinkle into existence. McCree scratched his back with languid strokes and seemed pleased when Hanzo produced noises of enjoyment. The only other sound in the room came from the TV in the bedroom, a request from Hanzo to “cover” their passionate ruckus earlier. 

“I know that earlier you said you did not want to know,” Hanzo began, his lips lightly brushing against the fine hairs on Jesse’s chest, “but, I want tell you.” 

The hand that grazed along his spine stilled at his lower back. “You absolutely sure, darlin’? I won’t tell anyone, but don’t feel like you’re obligated to do so,” Jesse assured him. 

“I want to.” 

The hand continued its course, nails slightly scratched his skin in a way that sent a ripple of goosebumps across his body. 

“Your impressions of me are correct. I am Hanzo Shimada, heir to the Shimada- _gumi_ in Hanamura.” Beneath him, the Overwatch agent did not stir, the hand still made its languid movements. “My father has brought my brother and I here to America to as a learning opportunity. I have spent this trip observing and practicing the necessary skills I will need for when I lead the clan myself. When I am not with you, I am engaging in the very activities your Overwatch prosecutes.” 

In a low voice, Jesse clarified, “Arms dealing, assassinations, drug traffickin'?” 

“... Yes.” 

“What about… traffickin’ people?” 

Hanzo’s eyes widened and he lifted his head to look Jesse in eyes. He needed the other man to fully believe him. “No. Never.” Instantly, Jesse looked relieved, those sunbaked lips curled at the corners. “I could never stand for that, Jesse,” he promised. 

Jesse craned his head forward to place a light kiss on Hanzo’s raven hair. 

“How does that make you feel?” Hanzo queried, nervousness picked at his stomach. He felt more naked than ever, with the truth of who he was laid out for Jesse’s judgement. 

“When I was younger, I was in a gang, actually. Probably similar to the Yakuza, in many ways.” The agent gave a toothy grin at Hanzo’s evident shock. “Havin' been on both sides of the law makes me a good agent, but it also makes me a sympathetic party. People _love_ to think that criminals, gangs, addicts, can be black and white. But they usually don’t realize just how much the gang becomes your family if you don’t got any left. Your father gives people a chance at a new life, a more respectable one, and that has its merits.” 

“You are... full of surprises, Jesse McCree,” Hanzo remarked as he lowered his head back onto that brawny chest. Now, more than ever, being with Jesse _felt right_ , in every aspect that the heir could judge. Hanzo could see it in his mind’s eyes, a push and a pull that they formed, in perfect balance with one another, a yin and a yang. Which made it feel all more a tragedy when… “I do not have much time left in America,” Hanzo whispered, muted and crestfallen.   

Jesse wrapped his arms around the Shimada heir, searing them together. “We’ll make the best of it then.” 

\--- 

Later, a knock from the suite door shattered the illusion of their isolated world. Jesse sprung up from the couch, carefully maneuvering Hanzo into a comfortable position before he bolted to the bathroom and later emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist. 

The door slipped open and Hanzo caught a glimpse of some long, mirrored serving trays adorned with an assortment of edibles on a linen lined cart. Behind the cart was a pretty, young thing, whose cheeks bloomed with color when Jesse’s broad, bare chest greeted her. Seeing the hotel staffer fumble with the small talk Jesse was going out of his way to make spawned a pang of jealousy in his chest. It was ridiculous, he knew, to feel any sort of ownership or to dare want exclusivity with the American. After all, his time in the States were numbered. 

But, deep down, in a place he was afraid to admit existed, he did desire Jesse to be his and his alone. Just watching the man casually converse with others riled up a primal resentment. Something that called his to bones to ‘snatch up and hoard’. 

“ _McCree_ ,” he warned; the dragon grew tired of being ignored. 

The cowboy glanced over to him, and the man at the gall to smirk. “Thanks, doll, for bringin’ these up here. Say, before you go, does the kitchen have tea?” The staffer baubled some affirmative response. “Perfect. Could we get some sent up in the mornin’? I have the hunch one of us may be hoarse after tonight.” 

Mortification swelled up and swallowed Hanzo whole. He felt his mouth hanging open, and some indignant look surely contorted his face. But he was paralyzed under Jesse’s sly gaze. Was still petrified as the man swung the door shut, prowled over, towel shimmying off those hips as the cowboy stalked towards him. 

They feasted on the snacks, gorged themselves on each others bodies. Jesse had carried Hanzo to the bedroom again where they collapsed in a heap of limbs and gentle caresses. 

“Jesse?” 

“Hmmm?” the cowboy hummed, not opening his eyes. 

“I have a question.” 

“Go for it.” 

“It’s another serious one.” 

Jesse’s head lifted up and turned towards Hanzo, brown eyes brimmed with complete focus. A tan hand reached out to intertwine with Hanzo’s. 

“What’s on your mind?”

Hanzo paused, bit down on the tip of his tongue for a moment. “What… do you do in Overwatch? Specifically.” 

“Hmm,” Jesse began. A calloused thumb marked slow circles across his palm. “I’m a field agent, essentially. I don’t get invited to those fancy parties the UN holds or anythin’.” 

“So, a peacekeeper?” 

Jesse’s expression tightened. “Not… not exactly.” Hanzo gave the hand he was holding a gentle squeeze, a plea to keep going. “I’m part of a special operations division in Overwatch. Nothin’ unsanctioned, but we’re who the Strike Commander sends in when things are going to be messy either way.” 

The dragon hummed thoughtfully. “Why the hesitance?” 

“‘Cause… _bah_ … I dunno,” Jesse croaked, twisting onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “I know you’re… _you_ , but I feel ashamed for some reason. Like you deserve better than a lowly pawn.” 

“And you know what I do and do not deserve, is it?” 

Jesse clicked his tongue and turned his attention back to Hanzo. “Don’t start givin’ me none of that sass now, sweetheart. You know what I mean. It’s just… you walk into a room and all eyes turn to you. You could give an order and people would be bucklin’ at the knees to obey without even knowin’ why. You exude _power_ and control and… and I’m just the guy standin’ at the back with my jaw on the floor. 

“Like, I can check you into this nice hotel on Overwatch’s dime and write off our dinners as business expenses, but at the end of the day, I’m still a nobody.” Jesse’s voice strained, raw. “A nobody that has done some awful stuff, things that weigh on the soul for a lifetime,” he trailed off. 

The Shimada heir watched as the agent’s brows crinkled together and the man’s gaze flicked away. He nudged forward and placed a soft kiss on those lips that threatened to quiver. 

Hanzo was not normally a compassionate being. From a young age, any inklings of softness, any tendencies to coddle, were slapped out of him from overbearing tutors and mentors. His mother had been caring one, unusually kind and understanding; the compliment to his father’s iron protection. With her passing, he knew he had grown cold. Distancing himself even from Genji, his cherished brother. 

But with the cowboy, it was always a sudden thing, as if his walls simply crumbled before the man with an easy smile and soothing voice. 

Jesse’s lips found his and kissed back slowly. Something flared in Hanzo’s chest. 

“My turn to ask you something?” the cowboy asked quietly. Hanzo nodded. “Tell me” -Jesse maneuvered himself so he could wrap a warm hand around Hanzo’s intricate tattoo- “about this. Almost feels… textured and... raised? In some places.” 

 _Keen_ , Hanzo’s mind rumbled, before he spoke, “It is more than just a beautiful image. This signifies my connection to the spirit dragons of the Shimada bloodline. The tattoo also serves as a conduit through which I can summon and channel their energies.” 

Jesse outlined the ink on his skin with a new interest, tracing along the curve of the dragon’s skull and neck with a kind of reverence. “I sensed _something_ stir within you that night in the desert, when I shifted. It was only a fleetin’ thing so I had chalked it up to shock or fear but…” the man inched close, planting ghost-light kisses up Hanzo’s arm, “now I know there are beasts within both of us.” 

\--- 

“God _damn_ , you look so sexy,” Jesse groaned from below him. It was the last night of their little getaway.

Large hands curled against Hanzo’s back and tried to pull the Shimada heir downwards. Hanzo fought the cowboy’s pull, straddling and gyrating on those sharp hips like he saw Jesse doing at the rodeo weeks ago. Hanzo’s fingers reached up to steady the Stetson on his head, greedily stolen from its owner. Jesse’s fingers slid down to cup his firm butt cheeks and, with a shameless flair, the agent thrusted upwards, making a series of sinful _smacks_ that bucked Hanzo above him. 

“Should be a fuckin’ crime, sweetheart,” the deep voice drawled from beneath him. 

Hanzo reached behind him and wrangled the palms desperately kneading into his cheeks. With a smooth motion, he pinned the cowboy’s hands against the bed, over the other man’s dark locks. 

“Show some control,” he scolded. 

Jesse wiggled against the pressure on his arms. “No can do, Hanzo. You bring out the worst in me.” 

The Shimada surveyed his captured prey. Those walnut eyes drowned in pent-up desire which paired _very_ nicely with the swollen lips Hanzo was beginning to adore. “Maybe I should teach you discipline,” he threatened, giving another squeeze to those wrists. “Or, perhaps, these bad manners have to be trained out of you.” 

“Careful hun, anythin’ you say and do can be held against you,” Jesse teased in a low tremble. 

Hanzo dropped forward and they writhed together once more. Jesse’s possessive touch burned every inch of him, made him whine and beg and cry out. In turn, he claimed the cowboy: ripped long, angry lines down that tanned back, bruised the places he held onto for leverage, and devoured the incomprehensible babel that continuously gurgled forth from Jesse’s mouth when the other man was being ravished. Hanzo faintly wondered if it was possible to ever tire from the crushing magnetism between them, before the feel of Jesse pushing inside shattered the last of his thoughts. 

That night, the Shimada heir let his heart be branded by whisky eyes and a wild soul. 

\---

Later the following week, Hanzo’s father surprised him with catastrophe over breakfast. 

“Negotiations have gone better than I could have anticipated,” the Shimada _oyabun_ had began. “We can return to Hanamura much earlier than planned, my sons.” 

Hanzo’s heart slammed to a halt, then boomed into a rapid fire beat. “When?” he said, his voice trying to hide the building panic. 

“We could leave as early as tonight.” 

Genji shot him a worried, desperate look, a fork stalled before his brother’s lips. His wretched, traitorous heart screamed at him now. _Give an excuse! Say something to delay!_ But this was the inevitable, this was not his home, this was not his path. He swallowed thickly, an effort to stay his tumultuous stomach. 

“We will make sure we are ready for our departure then.” The voice that came out did not sound like his own. Must have been from someone else, a side of him that could easily deny the multitude of things Jesse had made him feel in their short time together. 

Genji furrowed his brows and watched Hanzo’s movements as the elder brother stood up and excused himself from the table. 

 _I have a duty, little sparrow. This is my fate._  

\---

Once in his bedroom, Hanzo lost all composure. The bed caught him as the Shimada heir sunk into its pillows and sheets. A hand desperately searched for his phone, his lifeline to Jesse. He froze though, halfway through the message to Jesse, explaining the sudden turn of events. His heart, raw and ragged, begged him to not shatter the illusion until the very last moment. _Bear this burden as well_ , it pleaded. 

One click and the message was gone. 

\--- 

Time warped around him, simultaneously felt too fast and too slow. Genji checked on him multiple times, tried to convince him to talk to their father about staying longer, to no avail.

It took him two hours to fully pack; his motions had no urgency or cause behind them. When he folded the red _serape_ , originally a loan from Jesse on a cold evening out, pain pricked at his eyes. He brought the soft fabric to his face and wept. He wept for his bleeding heart, for a lover who would not know he had gone before it was too late, for the duty that shackled and bound him. 

He laid there. Fallen over on the bed. Comatose. Until Genji fetched him. Hurried words went right through him: “We’re leaving now”, “Here, wipe your face off with this”, “Father will start to wonder if something is wrong”. His brother placed the handle of a suitcase in Hanzo's limp hand. How uncharacteristic of the sparrow to be dotting and cooing to the dragon, but his brother’s presence was a godsend presently. Hanzo needed to remember to thank him later. 

The elevator ride down felt appropriate. A physical descent to match his inner hell. The mirrored walls however, he couldn’t bare. Countless eyes stared into him, knowing the state of his beaten heart. 

In the car, idle conversation was exchanged between Genji and their father. Mundane inquiries about the itinerary and what plans, if any, there were for when they arrived back in Hanamura. The Shimada heir remained distant, uninterested. It was only until their father addresses him directly did his mute break. “Hanzo, my son, I feel that you have grown in a new way. This trip has changed you, yes?” 

A pang. A pulsation of agony. It was only ever a lofty dream, right? 

“It has.” 

Mechanically, Hanzo reached for his phone and typed a goodbye to Jesse. Then turned it off completely.

\--- 

His father led their entourage to a VIP lounge near their departure terminal. Their bodyguards proceeded to spread out around the empty room; they had it to themselves on account of how late it was. Genji played on his phone. His father worked on his laptop. Hanzo elected to mope in silence. 

An hour of watching Hanzo stare forlornly out the windows had Genji walking past him, a slight tap on the shoulder said to follow his brother. They stopped, just out of sight of their father, before Genji whirled on him. 

“Hanzo!” Genji hissed. “Do you love Jesse? If so, you need to _fight_ for him! Father is more understanding than you know!” His brother’s hold on him stung, a tiny flicker of something that burst through the painful haze. 

“Genji,” his mouth felt fuzzy and wrong, “calling it that might be a stretch...” 

“But you feel something for him! More than you have ever felt about another suitor! I see it written all over you when you come back from spending time with him.” 

“It does not matter though!” Hanzo shrugged Genji off him, sadness boiled to anger. “I have a duty to the clan! And Jesse is not… an appropriate-” 

Commotion at the lounge doors cut Hanzo off, stealing the brothers’ attention. Arguing with their bodyguard staff was the cowboy himself; a wish made flesh. Brown eyes locked with rich, amber ones; Hanzo motioned the guards away and Jesse rushed to him with fire flicking in those russet pools. 

“Jesse, how did you-” 

Strong arms grabbed Hanzo and manhandled him to towards the back of the lounge. Genji looked on with a mixture of confusion and astonishment. Out of the corner of his vision, Hanzo even saw his father glance upwards to see was the disturbance was, but no one stopped the strange American dragging the Shimada heir straight to the VIP bathroom. 

Jesse shoved the door shut with a ferocious thud and the lock engaged with an audible _click_. 

“Jesse- _oof_!” He’s slammed against the tiled wall, the air in his lungs knocked loose. 

“You fuckin’ _son of a bitch,_ ” Jesse snarled in his face. Hanzo had never seen the other man angry before. A tiny seed of fear nestled deep in his gut. “You were going to just end things like that!? Weren’t going to give me a chance to say goodbye!?” 

“You have no idea-” 

Lips crashed against his. Hungry and brutal. Jesse’s hands dived down his body, latched onto the backs of his thighs, and yanked Hanzo upwards. He coiled his legs around the other man’s waist as Jesse rutted him into the wall. It was utterly shameful. Dishonorable and lewd. But when Jesse moaned into his mouth, the only thing Hanzo wanted was _more_. 

“Don’t you... fuckin’ _dare_ … try to pull that on me again… Hanzo,” Jesse spat out between the fight of their mouths. The anger, the desperation, a hazy fog, different than before fell upon the dragon. 

“Bite me,” Hanzo wheezed, gasping for breath between kisses. A low rumble sprung from Jesse’s throat before sharp teeth sunk into the side of his neck, followed by a series of particularly wicked thrusts. Jesse’s fingers dug into his ass, the sting of the grip flirting along the edges of his concern. “ _Jesse_ …” he groaned; his own voice dripped with unabated desire. 

“Ask me to go with you,” that deep timbre grunted into the curve of his neck. It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did to hear those words. 

“I-I cannot,” Hanzo stammered, his rational thinking was just barely hanging on. 

“ _Hanzooo_ …” Jesse whined. “I need you.” Large hands pawed and kneaded into his backside, lustful and wanting. He guessed Jesse wasn’t above begging. 

“Take me then,” he choke out. 

Jesse shuddered against him and dropped Hanzo back to the floor to fetch a few foil packets from his pocket. Hanzo worked open the other man’s pants with nimble fingers that fished out Jesse’s hard length. A few tugs had Jesse groaning as the agent tried to open the packets. “You’re wearin' too much,” Jesse claimed, eyes half-lidded, lust dripping from his gruff voice. 

Smirking, Hanzo undid his pants and stepped out of them. As soon as he was free, Jesse whipped him around, shoving Hanzo’s face into the wall. Deft fingers found his hole and the cool chill of lube raced up his spine and out to the very tips of his fingers. Where the icy liquid made him shivered, Jesse burned him up. The raspy huffs against the back of his ear drove him mad. Fingers stretched him impatiently, moving in concert with the bulky mass pressing rhythmically against him. 

“ _Enough_ ,” Hanzo gasped, swatting away the hand that worked him open. “I want _you_.” 

Against his back, Jesse swore viciously, the man’s mind surely as gone as his. With a quick wipe, the Overwatch agent begun fiddling with another foil packet before Hanzo too swatted that away. It fell the floor with a unceremonious _plop_. 

“I said, I wanted _you_ ,  _cowboy_.” Hanzo’s chest fluttered wildly, how forward and uncharacteristic Jesse made him. Bent against the wall, about to get fucked in an airport bathroom. The thought only made his dick twitch in need. 

Jesse crowded back around him; the man’s hard cock prodded at his entrance, teased it open, and slicked it up more. Jesse pressed forward slowly, watching for signs to pull back. The stretch stung as his asshole yawned wide, but the pain soon gave away to the pleasurable fullness of Jesse being fully sheathed inside him. 

The cowboy kept still, allowing for Hanzo to adjust. Warm hands grabbed and pulled as his arms, raced down his sides, gave some gentle attention to his waning erection. Wanting more, Hanzo bucked backwards which awarded him a soft moan from the other man. 

Jesse set a slow paced that ramped up with encouraging sounds and touches from Hanzo. The other man’s groans and whispered swears felt like heavenly praises against the shell of his ear. Jesse neared his climax, motions became more fervent and erratic. All Hanzo could do was brace himself against the bathroom wall as Jesse roared as he came, unleashing his seed deep within Hanzo. The cowboy trembled to the floor, mumbling sweet nothings as the crests of pleasure still reverberated inside him. 

Hanzo smirked as he leaned down to steal a harsh kiss across those cowboy lips. Jesse pawed at him, tugged at his shirt but the Shimada heir knocked those grabby hands away. 

“Your turn, hun,” the man croaked, attempting to stand on unsteady legs. 

Hanzo toweled off the mess and swiped his pants off the floor. Jesse watched him redress, a perplexed look gracing the man’s face. Hanzo found it all endearing: the measured rise and fall of Jesse’s shoulders from exhaustion, the desire to please written in the man’s eyes, and the drooping dick, still plump and pink from orgasm. 

He shook his head at Jesse. “I do not think I could. Not with my family so closeby.” 

“Ah,” Jesse breathed, averting his gaze, a rare moment of the man being bashful. “I guess we do the walk of shame then?” 

It wasn’t bad at all, honestly. No one peered their way as the pair emerged from the bathroom, bolting to a secluded corner in the lounge. Hanzo crawled into Jesse’s lap, wanting to feel small and surrounded in their final moments together. With the countdown came an deep sense of openness between them, an opportunity to trade rapid-fire questions and answers: had Jesse ever slept with a mark to gain information? (yes), had Hanzo ever been in love? (no), what was Hanamura like? (beautiful when the cherry blossoms were in bloom), would Jesse really come with him if he asked? (without hesitation). 

Hanzo couldn’t though. Wouldn’t. 

When Genji came to fetch him, the pair separated and promised to stay in touch. They shared a final kiss between them, and in it Hanzo wrapped the dreams and wishes he knew were too dangerous to keep in his heart. 

The Shimada heir did not look back as they left Jesse behind in the lounge. Kept his chin up and eyes focused ahead as they walked to the private jet, the gloom of the night hanging heavy on his shoulders. The stars above were few and muted. A deep contrast to the sky he fell to his knees before in the California desert. Memories of a crackling fire, the gleam of starlight on a metal frame, sprung into his mind. He shook them away. 

He boarded in a blur. Numb and unfocused. The plane cabin lights faded and the screen in front of his displayed their flight path home. Engines whirred to life. A short taxi to the runway. A light touch at his arm. Genji, not Jesse. 

Above the roar of the engine came a singular noise. A long, piercing wail in the darkness. He paused, then turned to look out the seat window. 

Standing in the grass, feet from the tarmac, was a pair of golden eyes, shining in the night. They had just a second before the plane sputtered forward. The wolf sprinted after it, never looking away from Hanzo until the aircraft outmatched the beast’s speed and lifted into the air. 

The howl came again. But this time, strong and sure, a war cry that chased after him and shattered him. 

Hanzo whipped his phone out and powered it on as the plane slipped past the California shore. It buzzed with unread messages and missed calls. 

|| **_5:42 pm_ **  
Jesse, my father’s plans have changed. We are leaving right now. You will not see me again.

|| **_5:50 pm -_ ** **Jesse McCree**  
Answer your damn phone!!  
This better be a fucking joke  
HANZO!!!!!!

|| **_5:56pm_ ** **\- Jesse McCree**  
Im coming after you

|| **_9:31pm -_ ** **Jesse McCree**  
Hanz i dont want to say goodbye  
I dont want to fade into just friends  
Because i think im in love with you

|| **_9:38pm -_ ** **Jesse McCree**  
If you want me, i will go to you  
If you need me, i will find you  
If youll have me, i will never let you go

|| **_9:55pm -_ ** **Jesse McCree**  
Say something when you land  
Okay?

Tears dripped single file down Hanzo’s face. He sent a reply, one line long, and settled in for the long flight. 

\--- 

The wolf watched as the flashing lights of Hanzo’s plane faded into nothing over the Pacific waters. He’d gone as far as he could, with paws barely scraping the ocean bottom. Only then did he turn and wade back to shore. When he felt dry sand under his pads, Jesse shifted, ripping his phone out of his pants’ pocket. He prepared for heartbreak. 

But a single line of text greeted him.

|| **_10:15pm_ ** **\- Hanz <3**  
I think I am in love with you too. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I've posted a sneak peak of chapter 2 on my Tumblr for anyone interested. http://carbonmeatbag.tumblr.com/post/161002527404/hullo-the-following-is-a-preview-of-the-second
> 
> Whew! We made it! Thank you so, so much for reading my first published work on AO3 and in the OW fandom! This was written for McHanzo Week 2016 Day 3 (AU) and Day 5 (Young Love). Please leave a kudos or a comment, if I’ve earned it; I will cherish every one! 
> 
> This was supposed to just be a one-shot, but then I got some more ideas for this particular canon divergence and I wanna explore a wolf!Jesse further aaaaand gaaah xD ~~No promises though aha (man, a story is coming together for a darker sequel where Jesse goes to Japan….)~~ Okay I am DEFINITELY writing more to this story in the future. I have no ETA on when this will be updated (I have other stories in progress) but I have a good idea on what will happen next and how I want to write it :D
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at http://carbonmeatbag.tumblr.com/  
> Or on Discord at Jinxblog#9567  
> Or on PC Overwatch at Jinxblog#1427
> 
> Did you enjoy my writing? Do you ship McHanzo and R76? I am in need of beta readers/editors!! If interested, please give me a poke! I have multiple fics in progress, 3 of which already have more than 10k words written, all need careful pruning!!
> 
> I headcannon that Hanzo and Genji's father wasn't a total dickasaurus rex
> 
> This entire fic was essentially inspired by John Wayne by Lady Gaga.


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